


It Could Be Worse

by Fi_TeamFreeWill



Series: K Project Drabbles [1]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: But I will go down with this ship, F/M, First Meetings, Injured Awashima, Izumo being all smooth and shit, i have no idea why i thought this was a good idea, i wrote this in like twenty minutes so apologies in advance for all the cringe, you can fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 23:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9095191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fi_TeamFreeWill/pseuds/Fi_TeamFreeWill
Summary: Seri finds herself in a bit of an awkward situation involving the owner of a certain bar in town. But hey, as far as awkward situations go, it could definitely be worse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted some fluffy izuseri shit, so here you go! Have fun with this, I guess. I wrote it relatively quickly, so I apologize for any mistakes. Please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed! Lots of love,  
> ~Fi_TeamFreeWill~

What the hell am I doing here? thought Seri Awashima as she perched herself awkwardly on the edge of the couch. She tried to keep her posture straight and poised as always, but it was certainly difficult with soaking wet clothes and a throbbing ankle. A grimace of pain flashed across her face as she shifted her position slightly, accidentally jarring her hurt ankle further. The bartender, a man called Izumo Kusanagi, was behind the bar, searching through the cupboards for something. Having found it, he popped his head back up, a victorious smile resting on his face. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew him, somehow, though from where she hadn’t a clue. 

“Ah, here we are!” he said, waving a towel. He balled it up and tossed it to her, and she used it to gingerly pat herself dry, or at least, as dry as she could manage. 

“Thank you,” she said stiffly. She looked around once again, then realized with a start why this man looked so familiar. “Wait a minute—you’re a member of HOMRA, aren’t you? Mikoto Suoh’s right hand?” 

He leaned his elbows on the countertop. “Yeah. There a problem with that?” 

“No,” she responded coldly. “I can be diplomatic.” 

He studied her for a moment. “Oh,” he said with a laugh, “I see. You’re one of those Blues. Well, there’s no need to be so stiff with me. I’m not on-duty at the moment; I’m just being a gentleman, that’s all. You looked like you needed some help.” 

Seri’s pride insisted she argue, but she found she couldn’t. He was right; she had broken a heel, which resulted in twisting her ankle rather violently, just as the downpour outside hit. She was still soaking wet, but it was better to be inside and warm, with her foot up than outside in the cold. 

“Ah—yes, I suppose I did. Thank you, but I think I’ll be going now,” she said, tossing the towel back to him. He caught it with a raised eyebrow and watched with a slight smirk as she stood and started to walk unsteadily towards the door. 

She didn’t make it more than two steps; the moment she tried to put weight on the foot she’d twisted, her ankle gave out, and she went tumbling to the ground. Or, she almost did—Kusanagi was there in a flash, catching her. 

She cried out—a delayed reaction to the initial stab of pain—and the bastard had the nerve to laugh. 

“Are you alright?” he asked smoothly. 

She stared at him for a moment, still shocked to find herself in the arms of Izumo Kusanagi, someone who was supposed to be her enemy. Yet, here she was, sprawled out bridal style in his arms, and…not hating it? 

“I—ah...yes, thank you. I—I believe I am,” she stammered, flustered. 

The smirk remained fixed on his face. “Good. Perhaps you should stay here for a bit, just until your ankle’s better?” Was it her imagination, or did his grip on her tighten slightly?  
She regained some of her composure as the initial shock wore off. “Perhaps,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “But it might be best to, ah, put me down first.” 

This seemed to startle him, as if he had forgotten he was still holding her. “Of course,” he said hurriedly. He set her on her feet, then helped her back over to the couch. Outside, a loud peal of thunder caused them both to jump. 

She glanced out the window, dismayed to see that it was still pouring rain. It didn’t look like she was going anywhere for a while. 

“It looks as if you’re stuck here for a bit,” said Izumo, who was back behind the bar. 

“I suppose it does,” she responded as flatly as she could. She tried to ignore the small part of her that was thrilled at the idea of getting to spend more time with him. 

That infuriating smirk grew, and he adjusted his glasses. “Care for a drink?” Without waiting for an answer, he began pulling various spirits from the shelf. 

“If you wouldn’t mind, add a few scoops of red bean paste to mine,” she said as she leaned back into the couch. 

He paused. “Red bean paste?” he asked, eyebrows narrowing questioningly. 

“Yes, please.” He shrugged and began to rummage beneath the counter. 

“To each their own, I suppose.” 

He threw together their drinks, and Seri finally began to relax. She was resigned to the fact that she was stuck here; it was no use getting worked up over it. After all, she was finally starting to get warm, she had alcohol, and the right hand of HOMRA was serving her drinks. 

It could certainly be worse.


End file.
